“Now we’ll go into action. Oh, when he takes it in hand himself, things get hot⁠ ⁠… by heaven!⁠ ⁠… There he is!⁠ ⁠… Vive l’Empereur! So these are the steppes of Asia! It’s a nasty country all the same. Au revoir, Beauché; I’ll keep the best palace in Moscow for you! Au revoir. Good luck!⁠ ⁠… Did you see the Emperor? Vive l’Empereur!⁠ ⁠… preur! ⁠—If they make me Governor of India, Gérard, I’ll make you Minister of Kashmir⁠—that’s settled. Vive l’Empereur! Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! The Cossacks⁠—those rascals⁠—see how they run! Vive l’Empereur! There he is, do you see him? I’ve seen him twice, as I see you now. The little corporal⁠ ⁠… I saw him give the cross to one of the veterans.⁠ ⁠… Vive l’Empereur! ” came the voices of men, old and young, of most diverse characters and social positions. On the faces of all was one common expression of joy at the commencement of the long-expected campaign and of rapture and devotion to the man in the gray coat who was standing on the hill.